


i'll be home for cichol's

by itsrosencrantz



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:20:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28331502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsrosencrantz/pseuds/itsrosencrantz
Summary: It's been almost five years since Ignatz left Garreg Mach to attend art school. He's finally coming home.
Relationships: Raphael Kirsten/Ignatz Victor
Comments: 7
Kudos: 12





	i'll be home for cichol's

**Author's Note:**

> A holiday gift fic for another dear friend of mine, Max! There's not enough Raph love and content out in the world, so I wanted to add a little bit. Merry Christmas!

Garreg Mach is a little different from what he remembers, but that's to be expected, since Ignatz hasn't been back for more than a visit in years. There's something magical and wonderful about it in the wintertime - the lights twined around the streetlamps, wreaths hanging from every storefront, snow clumped up on the sidewalks and ice frosting the windows. It'd been pretty in the town where he went to college, too, but there's something about coming home for the holidays that just feels more right and beautiful than anything else... especially knowing that this time, he's coming home for good.

Leaving to go to art school had been the right decision at the end of the day. He'd been scared, and if not for his friends' encouragement, he might never have done it. He'd been terrified by the idea of striking out on his own and trying to make something of his art, and truth be told, he still is. A degree in hand doesn't mean much if no one will hire you, and he knows he's luckier than most in that his family has a business that he can go back and run while he tries to get his career off the ground otherwise. That it's an art supply store is really just the icing on the cake, and he can still remember the look Lorenz gave him when he was fretting over whether or not he should go. 

_If you don't go and pursue a career in art, when your family owns an **art supply establishment** , you really have no one to blame but yourself, Ignatz. I say that in the kindest way possible._

Leonie, too, had been bluntly but firmly encouraging. She understood better than Lorenz did, coming from a modest background herself. They'd crunched numbers together and she'd stayed up late with him helping him apply for every scholarship under the sun; college wasn't her dream, but she knew it was his, and the unwavering support he'd gotten from her had meant more to him than either of them was comfortable expressing. Lysithea had been in on it too - in her rough, well-intentioned-but-ultimately-a-little-scary sort of way, she'd pushed him to do better and be better than he'd thought he could be, and he's more grateful for that than he can say even now. 

Marianne and Hilda, friends he'd met at university, became the safety net he needed while he was missing all of the people back home so dearly. Between Marianne's quiet, comfortable presence and Hilda's enthusiasm and verve, he'd found a place among his peers that was good, that helped him feel like he'd survive the years away and go back to his friends in Garreg Mach stronger and better than he'd left them. Like someone they'd be _proud_ to know. Claude was the one who pulled the strings to help him get moved back to Garreg Mach on the sly - he'd been so excited and amused by the idea of springing it on everyone that Ignatz hadn't had the heart to refuse his grand scheme - and then, of course, Raphael.

Raphael, his best and truest friend in the world, who has never been anything but supportive. Raphael who stayed up late on the phone with him so many more nights than he could count, talking him through his loneliness and his anxiety and his upset at being so far from everything he knew. Who'd had more faith in him than Ignatz had thought possible for anyone to have - whose sunshine and cheer and support had buoyed him through harsh feedback in the classroom and the horrible flop his first attempt at advertising and selling his own art had been - of all the people in his life that Ignatz feels like he doesn't deserve, Raphael would have to be number one on the list.

Raphael, who he's been a little in love with since he was six years old, but that's neither here nor there.

Even thinking of it has a blush dusting his cheeks, and he's grateful for the cold so that no one who passes by him on the street thinks anything of the way that he's glowing like a St. Cichol's light while he hugs his bags and hurries along the way to Raphael's apartment.

He's a little nervous, truth be told, about springing... well, himself, on Raphael, but not because he's concerned about the welcome he'll receive. 

Claude's sly expression and teasing words drift back to him - _It'll be great surprise! Maybe you could even bring some mistletoe along, hm?_ \- and Ignatz groans, shoulders hunching up in lieu of slapping a hand over his face. He's suspected for a while that his feelings for Raphael have been... pretty obvious, but up until recently, everyone had, had been kind enough not to say anything out loud. Now that he knows everyone _else_ knows, he figures he needs to man up and say something about it before someone else loses patience and does it for him (Lysithea comes to mind, or maybe even Lorenz... equally terrifying prospects in very different ways) and so he's resolved to do that. Eventually.

Soon, probably.

Their phone call earlier that morning had been the truest test of all. It had been so difficult to chat with Raphael about what he was having for breakfast and not let slip that he was in _town_ and cooking in the kitchen of his freshly leased apartment while they were on the phone. Raphael was never anything but kind and happy, and even though he'd been disappointed to learn that Ignatz wouldn't be able to make it back for the holiday he hadn't made him feel guilty about it at all... which just made it worse. Lying to Raphael was probably something he'd need to apologize to the Goddess for, for the next sixteen years, even if it was just a little white lie to fuel a surprise.

He takes a deep breath, steeling himself, and trots up the steps to Raphael's apartment. Shuffling his bag to one arm, he pulls his phone out with the other and flips to Raphael's contact, anticipation building bright and warm in his chest while he waits for the call to connect.

"Hey, buddy! What's up?" 

Ignatz's smile unfurls at the sound of his voice, and he can't even be embarrassed for it. "I forgot to mention something on the phone earlier. Are you busy right now?"

The sound of the television in the background cuts out immediately. "Nope, just hanging out at home. Thinking about what I'm going to have for dinner, honestly... after you talked about all the good things you're going to be eating, I had to sit back and think pretty hard about what I want. When you come visit next, we've got to go to Molinaro's. You're going to love the food, and the owner's a great guy, too. He volunteers at the firehouse with me!"

"He sounds wonderful," Ignatz replies, glancing down at the bright red Molinaro's written across the takeout bag he has and swallowing down a smile. "And I remember you saying that. I wanted to treat you, since I felt a little bad about... all that, so I ordered delivery. It should be there soon, actually! I wanted to make sure you're home for it."

As he speaks, Ignatz pinches the phone between his ear and shoulder and reaches out to press the doorbell. It chimes, thank goodness, and he laughs at Raphael's happy cheer.

"Sounds like it's here right now! You're the best. You didn't have to, though, you know that, right? I'll just be glad to see you when you - _IGNATZ_."

The door opens and Raphael's expression is priceless; the way joy lights up every inch of his face washes away any lingering anxiety Ignatz might have. He barely has time to brace himself before Raphael wraps him in a hug, arms banding tight around him and squeezing until Ignatz's chuckles turn to wheezes.

"I can't believe it! I thought you were busy moving into your new place!" Raphael releases him, but only long enough to take the bag of food from him and usher him inside. "Not that I'm complaining. I was really bummed not getting to see you. This is the best St. Cichol's ever."

Ignatz tucks his phone away into a pocket on his oversized cardigan, waiting until the food is safely on the table before dropping his next bomb. With a sheepish smile, he reaches up to push his glasses back into place, and admits casually, "Well, that's the thing... I have been moving into my new place. Here, in Garreg Mach. I got into town a few days ago, and-"

The rest of what he has to say is drowned out by Raphael's happy whoop, and this time, when he hugs Ignatz, he gets his arms around his waist and lifts him straight up off the floor. It's humbling and wonderful and - almost too much - to see how happy he's made his best friend with the news; as difficult as it had been to keep the secret, it's worth it for every ounce of undiluted happiness he gets to see by delivering the news in person. He'll have to thank Claude for strong-arming him into going along with the scheme, and Lorenz for keeping the secret, even though he knows how much he loves to gossip. 

His eyes feel a little misty as he clings to Raphael's shoulders and is spun in a circle, and before he can fully think it through, Ignatz - riding on the high of their shared celebration - cups his hands on either side of Raphael's face and drops a kiss onto his mouth. The world stands still for a moment, every sensation narrowing and coalescing on the way Raphael's mouth parts in surprise and his arms squeeze just a little tighter around Ignatz, and suddenly the prospect of something that seemed so terrifying for so many years just feels... right.

Heart hammering away like a jackhammer, Ignatz rubs his thumbs over Raphael's cheeks and closes his eyes tight, forehead-to-forehead with his best friend. In a voice that only shakes a little, he admits, "I really missed you, Raphael." and presses another soft kiss to his mouth.

"Are you my St. Cichol's gift?" Raphael asks, wonder in his tone.

Ignatz laughs wetly. "Only if you're mine, too."

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me on twitter at itsrosencrantz!


End file.
